


New Game Plus

by FireEye



Category: Final Fantasy I
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-12
Updated: 2011-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So you broke the Time Loop and you want to do it again?  What madness is this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Game Plus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elflingslayer](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=elflingslayer).



> Prompt: Any characters would do, with names and really ironic personalities for what job they have, feel free to mix it up! It would be really cool to see the first part of the game(You know like up to the first fight with Garland) done in the perspective of a very different group of light warriors, in a lighthearted comedic way.

The Elemental Orbs rested silently, arranged like petals on a flower, on the sitting table.  Unfathomable darkness swirled within each one, captured motionless in time.  Intrinsic as they were to – among other things – the discussion at hand, they sat forgotten, eclipsed by the implications their darkness represented.

“Wait just one _damn_ minute,” Lyre snapped, green eyes glittering ominously.  “Are you telling me that all of that – the Fiends, the Time Loop, everything else... none of that happened?”

La’al cocked her head, but stood her ground – it was not as if the knight would be taking this frustration out on her,  and honestly it was a sentiment shared.  “That appears to be the case.”

“Wonderful.”  Lyre’s shoulders slumped.  She glanced around the room – a small apartment in the _Sweet Dreams Inn_ , painfully familiar as if drawn from memory.  Outside, on the street, a town crier relayed the news of a disgraced knight of the King’s Guard and a kidnapped princess.

“How could that happen?” Zeus wondered aloud.  Not yet grasping the full intricacy of the situation, the wizard appeared distracted between his own mind and the outside world.

“And where the hell did _he_ come from?” Lyre demanded to know, rounding on the newest addition in their midst.  The older, stranger Ethia serenely flicked his gaze to her accusatory finger, but remained silent.  “One is bad enough; why do we have _two_ of him?”

The younger, more abrasive, and decidedly familiar Ethia scoffed.  Flopping down onto the nearest bed, he counted off on his fingers.  “So we got six Light Warriors-”

“Count me out, I retire,” Lyre said, settling into one of the couches.

“We can do that?” Ethia asked, then folded his fingers back and started over.  “Fine.  Four active Light Warriors, two retired Light Warriors... anyone else want in on the retired?  No?  And some random guy who looks like me but isn’t, ‘cause _I’m_ me...”  La’al shook her head at this behavior, moving to stand beside her nameless compatriot and friend; the monk studied the floor in front of him, neither moving nor speaking.  “Four Orbs that used to be all, _glorious_ , and colorful and bright, then weren’t, and were, and now aren’t again.”  In an overstuffed arm chair, their white wizard twined her fingers together, lost in thought.  Their black wizard seated himself beside Lyre, who inched over.  “Apparently, Garland is alive and well and kidnapping princesses in the year of our Chaotic overlord, one-thousand, nine-hundred and eighty-seven.”

“Is that the situation so far, or have I been knocked on the head one too many times... or outright gutted and left to rot?  Again?”

“The question isn’t, _what happened_ , it’s _what do we do about it_?”

Ethia rolled over onto his belly, propping himself up at such an angle so as to stare at Lyre suspiciously.  “I thought you retired.”

“Somehow,” Lyre replied, “I doubt that Destiny cares if I’ve retired.  Fiends and hellfire, she probably wouldn’t care if I up and died – she’d still drag me out of my grave and the from beyond the Veil to mind this damn quest.”

Ethia buried his face in the blankets, muffling an aggravated wail.

“So what are we supposed to do about it?”  Zeus asked, still trying to make sense of muddled time.  “Are we supposed to do it all again?  You know, if we did something wrong, maybe.... maybe...”

“Maybe,” Tomae suggested from her plush chair, drawing all eyes upon her, “If we stop Garland here and now, we can stop this madness before it starts.”

Stunned silence descended upon the room, punctuated by the indistinct town crier, happy birdcalls outside the near window, and the older interloper scuffing his shoes to inspect their tread.  Lyre and Ethia exchanged a glance, and were on their way out the door before more could be said.

La’al rubbed her eyes.  “This won’t end well.”

Regardless, grabbing her hat off its hook by the door, she followed them out.

  


***

  


  
Garland was no fool.

His plan consisted of an intricate alignment of prophecies, astrology, astronomy, metaphysics, and magics, tied together by expert timing.  His goal was noble, if misunderstood – he was out to free the universe from the bonds of Destiny, after all.  All the pieces were in place...

Except, inexplicably, Garland found himself knocked upon his backside, under the menacing axe of an imposing warrior who – somehow familiar though she was – he had never met before.  He had expected to be followed for his transgressions – _had_ been followed and had thrown off his pursuit, in fact – only to be ambushed and overwhelmed by total strangers on the cusp of triumph.

The woman standing above him passed her axe from one hand to the other, then back again; she circled him tightly, flicking her braid over her shoulder.  She wore no standard, nor did her companions, from what he had seen of them; evidently, his King had taken to hiring thugs or heros, and Garland wasn’t certain which.

“Get the princess?”  The woman kept her eyes on him, but her words were for one of the others, keeping their distance.  Another woman, this one an elf, bobbed her silver head and strode forward, stepping past him on light feet, followed by a one-armed man in holy robes.  Garland grabbed for her cloak as she passed, earning a solid _thwap!_ from the broadside of the warrior’s axe.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he warned her.  _Them_.  They clearly didn’t understand any more than the King’s own astrologers did.  Nor did they listen.

There was one chance left.

The warrior let her guard down, for a mere moment when the princess appeared, led by her rescuers, and Garland scrambled to his feet, lunging for the altar at the center of the temple.  He was within salvation’s reach when he staggered and slumped to the floor, a throwing dagger blooming from his throat.

  
La’al pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead.  So much, then, for stopping the madness before it started – the catalyst had been triggered.  Lyre shouldered her axe and stared balefully at Ethia, who stood shocked.  

“I, uh...”  Ethia scratched the back of his neck.  “Missed?”

“Where were you aiming?” the knight asked, aghast.

Tomae had stayed behind; La’al hadn’t the mastery of resurrection, and they were far from civilization for the dead man’s soul to be called back and his body to be saved.  Events, it seemed, were unfurling much as they had before.  Sara glanced between her saviors, in the dark.

“And so, another decade wandering this dying world.”  The nameless monk stood by La’al; impassive as stone, he rolled his shoulders in a shrug.  “There are worse fates.”

  


  
**the end  
?**   


  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this qualifies as lighthearted or comedic, but it's what came to mind. And the idea of New Game+ meta amused me. I do hope you enjoyed it, though. And FWIW, I would have loved to do FFI in old verse, except I can't rhyme. :)


End file.
